Bad Moon Rising (AU)
by Username666
Summary: Imagine a world where, instead of faking his death and call himself the Trickster, Gabriel carved out his grace, and walked the earth without aging as a hunter? The Hunter. Well, that's what happened, and John's still kicking. Oh, and did I mention the Devil's gate? (Quite a bit of Good Omens, my good Supernaturalists. Helps to have scanned that book.) NOW UP FOR ADOPTION!
1. Beginnings

_Michael's dairy, entry __183_

_A long time ago, when the barrier between the earth and sky was blurred, the word 'hell' was invented._

_I created it._

_Most think it's something to say when your angry, to compare it with something bad, or annoying._

_But I know what it means, I still remember. It means pain. Not inflicting it, but feeling it. I cried the word when I threw my brother into his cage, when I watched his wings burn to ash by his side. _

_No matter how bad it hurt him, my shining little brother, to fall, it was hell for me._

* * *

><p>Let me tell you a story. It's a little tale about two brothers, who loved each-other, and betrayed each-other.<p>

Luci and Mikey were the closest siblings in creation. In the beginning, it was easy. They laughed at the other's jokes, picked each-other up when the fell, and played the constant pain in the ass for their little bros Raph and Gabe. Then, Daddy brought home the new baby, and little Luci couldn't handle it. He threw a fit.

Luci and Mikey fell out, the rest of their siblings chose sides, and suddenly, Gabe missed his pain in the ass brothers.

When the dust settled, Luci was gone, Mikey was vacant and Daddy has ditched Gabe and Raph to pick up the pieces and bury the innocent fledglings caught in the middle.

Then, there was no-one to pick up Mikey when he fell, tease Raph to make him laugh or give Gabe a reason to smile. So Mikey stopped getting up when he fell, Raph never laughed or smiled, and Gabe? Gabe just went on smiling, laughing and never giving up for them. And it hurt.

Mikey didn't talk anymore, Raph was always angry and shouting, and Gabe, eventually, Gabe just left. That hurt too. It hurt like a bitch.

In the end, Luci raged and screamed alone deep underground, Mikey closed down and hid in the endless shelves and dusty corridors of the Library, Raph stopped healing and laughing so he could hurt others and himself, and Gabe vanished off the face of Heaven. You know, I don't think anyone even noticed.

Little Gabe gave up on angels, on family, and searched for something else to fight for. And what do you know, in all of Heaven, Hell and Earth, Gabe couldn't find one thing worth fighting _for_. Somewhere along the line, though, he did find something to fight _against_.

Demons, Monsters, things that go bump in the night. Little Gabe became the first ever hunter, but even that hurt. So he carved out that special little bit of him that made him Gabe, hid it where no-one could find it, and went on fighting. But he wasn't Gabe anymore, nope, that guy was long dead. Now, he was just a hunter. _The_ Hunter.

And when the end comes, when Luci rises and Mikey falls, maybe someone will glance around and ask 'Where's Gabe? I though I left him right here.'

And maybe I'll just say 'The Hunter got him.'

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><p><strong>Alrighty, new story. This is just the prologue, nice and short. I may update tonight, or next week, who knows? And for readers of Tricksters-in-Arms, not updating for a while. Too lazy. :3 Oooh, I'm evil!<strong>


	2. Knock, knock, knockin' on Heaven's door

In 2007, the world faced a great threat, something so terrible the world hasn't seen since the first two times it nearly blew up. So, what? Twenty years? Wow, the earth likes great and terrible threats.

Anyways, the Fallen Azazel had this wonderful idea. Being pro Satan as he is, Azazel popped open a Devil's Gate and watched demons pour out cheerfully. Now, the universe, in it's infinite wisdom, likes giving the other side a chance before darkness completely and utterly takes over. This time, that one chance was Sam, Dean and John Winchester.

And you know what? They failed. Badly. Sure, the killed Azazel, but they couldn't shut the gate. By the time they managed to scamper, their magical gun was out of bullets, two of them were almost dead and over three million new demons possessed and killed half the population.

By-the-by, it was a Thursday. Because, evidently, the universe hates Thursdays.

The remaining people either rioted when they found out the world was being taken over by demons, or ran to the nearest gun shop.

Lucky for the Winchesters, the universe decided to plunk me down in ground zero. Humanity may have forgotten about the Hunter, but it's a bit hard to forget anything as loud and annoying as man-kind.

* * *

><p>" Hello!?" <em>Ugh, voices. I should kill voices next<em>. I tugged my blanket higher up, scattering beer bottles everywhere. " Hello, please, open the door!" Someone started banging on the door.

I groaned, rolling off the couch. " Who's there?" I called out tiredly.

The banging stopped. " Please, sir open the door. My dad and brother are hurt." The voice begged.

" Okay, hold your horses-" I snatched a bottle off the windowsill, unlatched the bolt and chucked the cap-less bottle like a grenade.

A tall, now absolutely soaked, man blinked in surprise. Two shorter guys were leaning against him completely, the older one clutching an empty gun to his chest.

I opened the door wider, bowing exaggeratedly. " Come in."

* * *

><p>" Th-thank you. My name is Sam." The tall one introduced himself, carefully setting his brother down on the couch. " This is Dean, and my dad is John." I propped John up on a worn cushioned chair, and offered my hand.<p>

" I'm Hunter." I said cheerfully. " Occupation: er, hunter."

Sam shook my hand. _Holy hell,_ the kids hands were like dustbins. " We're, uh, hunters too, I guess."

I whistled. " An entire family of hunters? What managed to know those two of the air." I tossed Sam a bottle of disinfectant.

" Demons." The way the kid said it, I think he'd have raised hell just so he could level it again.

" Nasty bastards." I clucked my tongue. I could almost smell the sulfur from here. " Wait- how many?"

Sam didn't answer.

Well, shit, that's bad.

" Do I need to grab my gun right now, 'cause I'm too lazy for that."

" Was that a threat?" Sam asked incredulously. Well, he is twice my size.

I jutted out my chin and crossed my arms. " I think so."

We looked each-other up and down in silence.

" Fine. A lot."

" That bad?"

" ... Yes."

Well, double shit.

" What, did they open up a Devil's Gate?" I laughed nervously. Sam looked away. " You know, gun doesn't seem so far away anymore."

" I had to pull Dean and dad a mile to get here," Sam sighed tiredly. " You can't go that far without a weapon surrounded by demons and not get attacked. But I'm here, maybe I can help."

" I think you've helped enough."_ Oh, that sounded waaay colder then I meant to! Now it's awkward, distraction phase, **GO**!_ " Hey, what's that on your brother's neck!" I yelled far too loudly. Sam raised an eyebrow, but let it slide.

_Human interaction successful_.

" It's a necklace." Sam said bluntly. I pulled an injured puppy look. " Okay, it's supposed to be a protection charm. I gave it to him."

" And who gave it to you?" The thing is, I know almost every symbol of power- I can't remember this one.

" Another hunter, Bobby." Not like I've never heard of it, I just can't remember it...

" Oh, Bobby Singer. Can I have a closer look at it?" I reached to touch, but Sam's shot out and grabbed my wrist. Years of hunting nearly made me flip him. Sam swiftly let go, blushing from embarrassment.

" Sorry, sorry! Just, be careful." I nodded impatiently, pulling the string of the necklace until the charm came into view.

" Hell's Bells." I murmured.

" What, what is it?" Sam hovered over my shoulder. I dropped the necklace like it was on fire.

" Nothing, I've just seen it before. Make sure Dean doesn't lose it or break it." I warned. Sam nodded quickly.

" But what is it, if you've seen it before, what does it do?" The kid blurted out.

" It- it burns hot in the presence of God." I fibbed. Well, maybe it does, but that's not why it can never be broken.

Sam looked doubtful. " What happens if it breaks?"

Okay, let's switch it up, a little bit of truth this time. " A terrible monster will appear to drain the escaping power." I said creepily.

Eh, close enough.

Sam might have pressed, but just then, John groaned from the chair.

" Dad!" The kid was at the stirring man's side instantly.

" Sammy?" John muttered, opening the eye not swollen and blackened.

Probably should have done something about that.

Oops.

" Dad, it's okay, we got away. Dean's just on the couch." Sam gently tugged the gun out of his father's hand. Oooh, they have the Colt, and the amulet, maybe they are here for a reason.

" Where are we?" John looked around, locking in on me. I waved happily.

" A hunter's place, he knows Bobby." Sam glanced nervously back at me. " You do know Bobby, right?"

" Of course, Robert Singer, he has the best FBI impression." I snapped my fingers. " He's got douchery down to a dot." Is that a word? Douchery, asshole-eness-

" What's your name?" John groaned, shifting until he was upright.

" Hunter." I replied. " The hunter."

" Hunter the hunter?" The hunter raised an eyebrow. Oh, yep, there's the similarity, I can see it now.

"Uh-hu. I'm going to up the house's defenses now, seeing as you lot cracked open a Devil's Gate in my backyard." I sauntered out, biting down a grin. Okay, maybe that was mean, considering the chewing out Sammy was going to get, but I've been having a bad day! And it's only- fifteen minutes since I woke up? (I don't have a watch.)

I gathered up a brush and paint from a broken down shed, tromping back through my overgrown yard. Ugh, the stink of sulfur is everywhere.

Something rustled the bushed behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, wrinkling my nose. The paint bucket fell to the ground as I reached for my gun.

_Oh, hell, forgot my gun._

_Other pocket? Shit! _I scooped up the bucket, racing for the house. The evilest entity in the world, an inconveniently placed rock, reached out and grabbed my leg in a death grip.

I face-planted into an excessively jungle-ish rose-bush. Really, really not my day. I rolled onto my back, ready to try and take the thing's head off with the rose-bush.

The thunderous ring of a shotgun exploded above me, ripping the head off the demon that poked aforementioned meat-lump out of the bushes. A garbage-bin sized hand heaved me up be my shoulder.

" What kind of hunter leaves their gun behind?" Sam snapped, hauling me towards my house.

" What kind of hunter steals another hunter's gun to save their life?!" I gasped, snatching my shotgun away from him.

Sam literally flung me back into the house, bolting the door behind him. " Get some salt!"

" No need." I flopped onto an old wooden chair, dumping the brush and paint on the table. " I wash the walls with salt water every few weeks, inside and out." I tugged a rose thorn out from under my finger-nail. " Not to mention the sprinklers are ready to shower holy water. The entire house is built on hallowed ground."

" Then why'd you leave to get paint?!" Sam yelled, storming over so he could loom over me. _Hell, kid, you're tall, stop showing off!_

" I dunno, I was bored? No cable here." I had to dive under the table to avoid the buffet Sam aimed at my head. " Careful, Sammy, you'll take someone's head off!"

" Don't call me that." He growled, stomping off. John and Dean, awake and awkward, watched him storm away.

I poked my head out from under the table. " Don't tell, but I've got a whole list of ridiculous 'Sam' nicknames." And John nicknames, come to think of it. I've met an awful lot of Johns.

More awkward silence, then;

" Who the hell are you?" Dean spluttered.

Oh, yeah. Forgot how fun it was to mess with humans.

Not so fun when one of them has an amulet that could either kill me, or ruin all my fun.

I knew I shouldn't have made my grace vessel a necklace.

* * *

><p><strong>The amulet, or Samulet, as some call it (can't imagine why), is where Hunter shoved his Grace!<strong>


	3. All the porn!

"In Heaven, fledglings are told of the great and powerful warrior, the infallible Michael, whom's holy light won wars and protected realms." The old wooden door creaked shut on rusted hinges, closed by a shadowed hand. " They believe, yet have never gazed upon your face, brother."

Michael looked slowly up, moving like his bones were glass. " They have not seen Father, either, yet you let them believe."

Raphael looked down on his elder brother, expression stony. " Heaven will not run forever with you refusing to show yourself."

" ... Gabriel hasn't visited in a while." Michael said suddenly, turning his head to look down the dusted corridors of unruly books. "How is he?"

" Gabriel has been gone for a very long time." Raphael replied tightly. " You'd know, if you cared."

" I've given Heaven everything I had." Silence took the library. "Is he dead?" The broken warrior met the former Healer's eyes. " Is Gabriel dead?"

Raphael turned back to the door wordlessly.

" Raphael!" Michael rose shakily to his feet. " Is our little brother dead?!"

" I don't know." Raphael pulled the door open and glanced back. His eyes were harsh and angry. " But I believe both of my older ones are."

Raphael vanished into the shadowed doorway, slamming the heavy wooden door. Michael slid sluggishly back to the ground.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile-<p>

In the humble abode of the handsome, modest and awesomeness that is me, Hunter, a wild moose attacks!

" Hunter, how old is this?" The younger Winchester held a milk carton out at arm's length.

For the kid, that was about half a football field.

I gave it an experimental sniff. "Er, what does it say?"

" Expires-" Sam's nose wrinkled in disgust. " It says it expired four years ago."

" Oh." Oops. "Well, I'll just run out to the store, if they're open." I reached for my jacket.

" Wait!" Sam grabbed my shoulder. What is with him and shoulder-grabbing? " We'll come with you."

" Pffft! Your old man's still limping, and Dean-o tried to kill me! Twice!" I glanced Sam up and down. " And you won't even fit in my car! No, Kiddo, I'll go it alone."

" Wyoming is swarming with demons! You can't go out alone!" Okay, time to be harsh.

" And who's fault is that?" Believe me, it took a lot to say that scathingly. It hurt me then it hurt him! A few days and the kid's already grown on me.

Sam dropped his hand and stepped back. Yeesh, you'd think I kicked his dog or something.

" I'll be back in a few. Keep the door locked, and for Heaven's sake, don't let Dean get a hold of my porn stash." I slipped out the door, feeling guilty. I heard Sam whisper something as I shut the door, but it didn't register until I was well on my way to the woods.

But, when it hits, it hits like a train. On steroids.

Er, made out of very pointy and unbreakable blades.

Also, on fire.

_" You don't have a car."_

* * *

><p>The greatest thing about me? I know when I've been caught. Except when I don't, or I'm just too stubborn to give up or-<p>

Okay, point being, I know that Sam know's that somethings wrong. The main reason I could't bring them with me is that if we get caught, they'd _know_ without a doubt that I'm not just a regular old ironically named hunter. I'm not _stupid_, I know who they are, the Winchesters. Just, well, can't remember _why_ I should know. I must have figured at some point in my ridiculously long life I'd forget stuff, so I wrote it all down, and hid it someplace no-one else could find. Preparation level; Genius.

It won't take too long dig up the old journal, and I can always raid the emergency supplies so Sammy doesn't get suspicious and try to salt and burn my ass. Of course, I might have to steal a car at some point. I think my old motorcycle rusted to dust ages ago.

Anyway, my super, ultra, mega super-secret hiding spot isn't too far from my house. If you're taking a innocent hike through the woods and suddenly feel like the ground is sponge under your feet, all hollow and weird, that _probably_ wouldn't be my hiding spot. Then again, the world ended last week, so it could be anything, Time and Relative Dimension in Space machines included.

If you cleared away the dirt and twigs, you'd find an iron trap-door, carved with weird shimmering symbols. If you're not smart enough to turn around and run away shrieking like a little girl, you'd find out the door led straight down, the metal walls encrusted with salt and maimed with deeply etched lines.

You'd have to be a real dumb-ass to climb down there, _buuut_ that's humans for ya.

Way down at the bottom, there'd be a surprisingly comfy and well-lit room, with ancient, dusty and cob-web covered furniture absolutely swimming in porn magazines.

They'd be sitting there very lonely looking, so you'd pick them up, and you're friends wouldn't see you for days.

Speaking of which, I probably have time to read just one-

Nope, no, nu-uh, stick to the mission!

Further into the super, ultra, mega super-secret hiding spot it a big-ass book with a golden feather for a book mark. If you managed to drag yourself away from the magazines for long enough to look at it, you'd be plumb out of luck reading it. Enochain, gets you every time.

Even that pesky Time and Relative Dimension in Space machine's translator wouldn't help your alien ass! Mwhahahaha!

Ahem.

So you'd go back to the porn mags and eventually starve to death. But me? I, with great effort of will, can waltz past the tables and read that super, ultra, mega super-secret book!

Which is about 25% porn.

And 7% Winchester, apparently. Lots of dirt on those guys.

Why, I never knew Sammy swung that way! Demons? Really?

Oh, it might pay to mention when I wrote this, I had half a foot in the future.

* * *

><p><strong>Anyone get the Doctor Who reference? XD<strong>

**Also, I love writing as Gabriel. He gets distracted easily. Sorry 'bout the abrupt ending. And slow starting.**

**And all that porn.**

**Anyhowzer, the next chapter will probably be Sammy phoning Bobby and he has some 'spaining to do.**


	4. A long, long time ago They called me-

_Ring, ring, ri-_

" Hello?"

" Hey, Bobby. It's Sam."

" Sam! Where the hell are you boys, demonic possession's tripled in one week!"

" I- I know Bobby. It's my fault, I couldn't close the gate-"

" Shut up."

" Sorry-"

" Sam, shut. Up. It's that demon's fault. Where are you, are John and Dean alright?"

" Yeah, yeah we're all okay. We're at another hunter's house. He just went out for supplies."

_Silence_.

" What's his name."

" The aptly named Hunter, huh."

" Sam, get out."

" Why?"

" Ever read Samuel's journal? He said someone told him how to make the gun."

" ... The Hunter."

" He kills for the sake of killin' boy, no-one knows if he's even human, get out of there!"

*_click_*

* * *

><p>I'm a reasonable being, I really am.<p>

I just kinda... _freaked out_. After all, it's been a stressful week, no-one can blame me for getting a bit annoyed.

Except, well, when I lose it, I _really_ lose it. And with all the stuff I just relearned about the Winchesters, they weren't exactly on my good side.

Soo, opening _my_ door to find _my_ gun in _my_ face was like the leaf that pushed down a tree.

* * *

><p>"You're lucky I like you, kiddo." I'd like to think when I get angry, my voice is all thunderous and intimidating. But I kinda sound more like a ticked off cat. " Put the gun down."<p>

Sam's hazel eyes were hard as stone. The stupid kid just tightened his hold on _my_ gun. " Just talked with Bobby. What are you."

" I'm a hunter." I hissed back. Oooh, this kid's pushing his luck!

" What were you before you were a hunter?" Well, if that didn't catch me off guard. Sam took advantage of my very intelligent looking puzzlement.

" Tell me what you are, and I won't shoot." The tall hunter threatened. Hmm, taking charge suits him...

" And if I'm human?" I raised an eyebrow. " Or I possessed someone? You prepared to murder some poor regular old Joe?"

The determination in his eyes faltered, but he just pressed the barrel against my chest. " Try me."

" You're asking for an ass-kicking." I warned, pushing up my sleeves. A sound like a bird in flight reached my ears, and I turned around just in time for a crossbow bolt to rip through my arm.

A fucking bolt?!

" Aw-owowow!" I shrieked very in a very manly way, clapping a hand down on the wound. _That's it!_

I spun around and socked Sam in the face. The moose went down like a domino! I may be short, but when you wear rings like knuckle dusters it really makes a difference!

" Sammy!" Dean burst from a bush, the crossbow in his hand. He was already laying another silver bolt across the strings.

" Oh, plenty for you, Dean-o!" I ducked under the second bolt and caught him in the gut with a bloodied hand. These two just throw themselves at the enemy when the others in danger! That'll break the world someday, I swear.

With these two knuckleheads basically running into my fists, I thought it'd be pretty easy to beat them up, prance away and never mess with the affairs of demons and mud monkeys again. Sorta forgot about that last Winchester, he he.

Well, forgot until someone dropped an anvil on my head.

Or that old, rusted bike I thought I lost. Turns out, I misplaced it in the attic!

And then, misplaced it across my head.

Ouch.

* * *

><p>" Tighter, Sammy, we don't know what it is."<p>

" I got it, Dean, I know how to tie a rope."

Erg, I just hate waking up to Sam's voice! It usually means I wake up early.

Or with a major headache.

I made the best impression I could of Dean's caveman voice. " Looser, Sammy, he might lose a hand."

" Dean, stop-" Sam suddenly fell silent. Whoops, guess I'm not that _great_ a copycat. I risked a peek.

Sam was giving me a look. I shall hereby classify it as 'bitch face'. Well, the part of his face that wasn't sprouting a shiner.

" Hey, you guys started it." The one operable eye narrow. Ah, Sammy, stop judging me!

Sam got up without a word and sulked out of eyesight. Man, he's acting like he wasn't holding a gun when I punched him.

_He wouldn't have used it._

Shut up, little voice!

" Samuel Colt, the Men of Letters, hunters in America, England, Africa-" Papa Winchester swooped into sight, a wicked silver blade in his hand. " They've all mentioned 'the Hunter'."

" Capital H? Yeah, that's me." Well, no use it keeping everything quiet.

Still not telling them who I am though.

" How long have you been the hunter?" Sammy asked from the side. I'd try turning my head, but I think they broke my neck with that bike.

" Hmm, good question, er, three thousand years? Give or take." I smiled sagely. Or tried to. " The human populace is just so kind and grateful. Busted my ass for three thousand years, and you lot drop a bike on my head!"

" What are you?" John Winchester completely ignored my heated little speech.

" The Hunter."

" What _were_ you?" Damn it, Sammy! Stop being smart!

" ... Well, it's been such a long time." I tried looking innocent and confused. Not a good combo.

Sam stepped back into view. By the look on his face, I'd guess he was putting his massive head to good use.

That, or he was trying to count the hair on my head.

" What's you real name?" Okay, so it's the first one. Phooey.

Well, If Sam's anything like Lucifer... He won't rat me out, and I don't think they believe in angels anyway...

I jerked my head painfully. Sam wearily moved closer. When I was positive the other two wouldn't hear, I whispered very quietly;

" Nick Mothereffin' Fury."

Sam pulled away, looking torn between annoyance and amusement. Eh, I'll tell him at some point. I know I will.

Dean managed to pull of an impressive stage whisper. " What'd he say?"

" Nick Fury." Sam snorted. " Nick _Mothereffin_' Fury." Ha, it sound's even funnier when Samoose says it!

Dean shot me a dirty look and I smiled back sweetly. Probably not a good idea to annoy them know, seeing as they're planning on using that silver knife...

The other two wandered off to the side, doing their best to drive me insane by ripping apart my library. Really, some of those books are hundreds of years old! Seems Sammy got the short stick though, cause instead of wrecking my place, he started testing. A dash of salt on my arm, a small silver cut, a little brush of iron against skin, not nearly as bad as Dean-o or Johnny boy would be.

" You must take after you're mum." Sam froze, nearly cutting off a toe by dropping the silver knife. Whoops, must be a sore spot.

" Why do you say that?" Sammy muttered, glancing over my shoulder to where his brother and father were _still_ tearing apart my house.

" Well, Dean-o would have cut off my hand by now. Johnny cakes over there certainly could have bashed me over the head at least once." I gave Sam a curious look. " I slugged you in the face and you're still trying not to hurt me as bad as any other hunter would."

Sam looked down to the silver knife, his hand tightening into a fist. "Not all of us hunt because we hate monsters. Sometimes, somethings gotta be done, and only you can do it."

Yeesh, this kid's making me want to be a better person.

"... None of these tests will tell you what I am." What am I doing?! Me, stop that!

Sam looked back up, his hazel eyes soft and- and human-looking.

I forgot humans could be beautiful.

" What's your real name?"

No, no, no, don't tell him, stop, close your mouth-

" Gabriel. A long, long time ago, they called me Gabriel."

...

Shit.

Sam's eyes lit up like Christmas lights. That puppy bastard had the nerve to smirk!

" Guys, I got a name."

Oooh, I'm so killing him first!

... Or not. After all, he's awful interesting.

emphasis on awful.

* * *

><p><strong>Just like this chapter!<strong>

**I liked that last bit, that was fun. You know, I've never written pairings. Ever. So this is a new thing, but I don't think I'm doing too awful. I don't like how in movies and some fanfic, they act like it's love at first sight.**

**Well, guess what. River Song killed the Doctor the first time they met! So I think it's fair Hunter socked Sammy in the nose.**

**Thanks for reading, and please leave a review, even if it's to tell me to eat dog crap and never write again!**

**Smiles! :3**


	5. He's got the magic in his eyes

" Tsk, tsk, Robert Singer, you are a mess." Bobby started to his feet, his gun loaded and readied. The room was empty.

A normal person would assume themselves insane. Bobby, insane as he was, very logically dashed into the kitchen and poured salt in a thin circle around him.

" Now, now, darling, no need to cook for me." A British man blinked into existence at the entrance, his suit smart and clean. His dark hair was thinning away and he seemed like a perfectly ordinary human being.

Outside of the glowing yellow snake eyes, hardy concealed by dark tinted shades.

" Get the hell out of my house before I shoot you so full of salt you crap margaritas." Bobby threatened, pumping the shotgun.

The demon shook his head in disappointment. " And here I thought you'd be desperate for allies. Well? I volunteer as tribute."

Bobby narrowed his eyes, snorting in disbelief. " Why'd a demon want to close the devil's gate?"

" Truthfully? It getting a bit crowded up here. Bugger that lot, I miss the good old days when to get topside, you had to be useful." The demon stepped to the edge of the salt ring, smiling down the barrel of the gun. " And? Do we have a deal?"

Very, very slowly, Bobby lowered the gun. " We'll talk. But one step out of line-"

" Yes, yes, one of these days, you'll send me to the moon." The demon offered his hand, grinning like a snake. " The name's Crowley. Nice doing business with you."

* * *

><p>" His name's Gabriel."<p>

" Well, that doesn't give us much do go on. Did anything work? The silver, holy water, anything?"

" No, he didn't react to any of it. And, his name's _Gabriel_, doesn't that tell us something?"

" Sam... There's no such thing."

" There's demons! Everything else is running around, why can't he be the real Gabriel?"

" Wait, Sammy, you think that douche-bag is an _angel_?"

" Well, why not? He's old, really old, and he protects humans-"

" He kills monsters, there's a difference."

" Is it so hard to believe?!"

" Yes, it is!"

" You know I can hear everything, right?" I called lazily from my chair. Ugh, I haven't sat still this long since-

Wait, I've never sat still this long. Woo-hoo! Setting new records!

" ... I'm bored now, let me out." I could almost _hear_ Samoose's eyes roll. Of course, I could just try and break out myself... But, eh, I'm curious how this will end. They don't have anything that can kill me. Just have to find a way to get rid of the rope...

The three stooges went back to muttering to each-other in my wrecked library. Jeesh, they could at least give me something to read, or-

Hey, what's that noise?

" Um, boys?" I squirmed in the bindings. The knuckleheads just prattled on. See, this is why I have a cabin in the middle of no-where, humans can be so-

" Hey, what's that noise?" _Ooooh_, Dean, how _observant_ of you!

" It's coming from the front door." I supplied helpfully. Someone spun my chair around.

Just beyond the wooden door, two muffled voices rose in argument.

" Why'd you bring me here, demon?!"

" I told you, it's Crowley. And this is where the Winchester's are. The home of the Hunter. I'm risking my hide just be being in this part of the state."

The two duller Winchesters shared a look, guns at the ready.

" Well?" Everyone turned to me. I raised an eyebrow. " Aren't you going to answer the door? Unless you want to let me-"

" Dean, get the door." Johnny-boy leveled his gun, eyes locked on the door. Dean obediently kicked the door open, pulling the trigger at the same time.

A decidedly unmanly shriek followed the boom of the gun. From my view, I couldn't really see if it was Dean-o screaming or the being he shot full of rock salt.

Dean lowered the gun. " Bobby?" A gruff grey haired hunter pushed Dean to the side, dragging a still hissing demon in by his collar. " What are you doing here?"

" Someone's gotta close the devil's gate." Bobby threw the demon forwards. The yellow eyed being face-planted a few inches from my feet. " The hunting world's in uproar."

The demon glanced up at me, his black shades eschew.

"Hey, I know you!" I cried happily. " Anthony J. Crowley! Back from Britain already?"

" Wait, I thought you killed demons." Dean-o said stupidly.

It's not his fault, everything he says comes out rather dumb.

" Pshaw, I kill everything. Doesn't mean everything I kill stays dead." I nudged Crowley with my toe. " So, come to join the rebellion?"

" Do they tie every Fallen up?" Crowley snorted back.

" Hey! I'm not Fallen!" The very idea! I can't chose which brother to dislike more!

Sam shot the other Winchesters a smug look. I guess that big head of his has it's uses, he figured it out far faster then I thought.

" So... If you've got a demon in on the fight, can you take off these damn ropes!?" The hunters turned to look at me. Okay, time to lay it on! " _Please?_"

Throughout all of Heaven history, that one word never failed to get me what I wanted from my brothers. Well, maybe once.

Sam turned to John. " If we're already breaking all the rules..."

" No, no way, I've been waiting to tie up that son of a bitch since we got here!" Dean shouted, pointing accusingly at me.

" Why, Dean-o, I didn't know you swung that way!" I gasped. Dean glowered angrily at me.

" Sam, if he's what you think he is, why doesn't he just break free?" John whispered to his younger, and taller, son.

Really, do they think I _can't_ hear them? They're three feet away!

There was devilish look in Crowley's golden eyes. Why's he giving me that loo- _Oh_!

I smirked, snapping my fingers. The rope vanished around me. To the now shocked hunters, it looked like I snapped the bindings out of existence. Crowley's laughter was muffled by the floor.

I tilted my head innocently. " You were saying?"

Sam immediately took advantage of the silence. " See, he could be useful! And he didn't kill us when he had the chance. All he would have had to do is leave us outside when we knocked on his door."

Man, this kid could be a lawyer!

Wait-

" Bobby, what do you think?" John turned to the elder hunter. The bearded man snorted.

" The world's swarming with demons. It's time to be unethical."

" Fancy words for a man that drinks the alcohol equivalent of gasoline." Crowley snarked from the floor.

" Hey, A.J., why are you still down there?" I prodded him with my foot.

" I fear if I get up, my vessel's entrails will fall out. It's quiet a mess in there." Crowley admitted. " You keep a very clean floor, Hunter. Not a speck of salt."

" Cleansliness is next to godliness." I clapped my hands, standing up. " So, any you muttonheads got a plan to save the world? 'Cause personally, I've ridden this pine for a _long_ time. If someone's gonna blow it up, it's gonna be me."

* * *

><p><strong>By-the-by, That is both the SPN!Crowley, and GO!Crowley, if you've heard of him.<strong>

**Sorry, it's not that good. Just wanted to get Crowles in there. If you don't want a spoiler, click next chap or exit page right now!**

**Spoiler time!**

**Next chap _should_ have Castiel in it. This AU is before all the crap in season three, so Cas will be just as clueless and innocent as ever. Next to his corrupting brothers, at least.**

**Please tell me if you are confused about something, cause I don't want to leave too many plot-holes. Somethings, I'm not really going to change or worry about though. Example; Gabriel wasn't all that interested in escaping, or reasoning, or even keeping his secret. He's confident they can't kill them, and more interested in finding out what happens next then taking part in changing events, mostly because of the many years angels spent merely watching mankind grow without interfering.**

**Last but not least, I _will_ get to Crowley's real reason for wanting to close the devil's gate, but not for a while. To tide you over, I'll give one more spoiler.**

**Crowley's gone rouge. **

**Peace Off, Internets! X3**


	6. Shadows in the Library

**Its been a long ass time, hasn't it, Internet? Truth be told, I don't actually have internet right now, or a useful laptop. Even the broken one worked better then this poor time-worn beast. **

**Also, I recently turned 15. Gawds I feel old. Mid-way to just under mid-way of my life gone. And what do I do all day?**

**I write fanfics online.**

**Aw, well.**

**On with the show!**

* * *

><p>Humans are, I've decided, the very worst thing ever.<p>

Demons, you can work with. They're horrible, sulfur stinking hell-spawn, but they're predictable. They make sense. Best of all, I can kill them without attracting attention to myself.

Humans? They're complicated. They're messy. They're selfish and crazy and dumb and clever and-

I am so fed up with humans.

They've got no sense of humor.

"Ooooow!" I groaned, rolling dramatically around on the ground. A slightly smoking black and red patch grew over _my favorite shirt. _Or it is now that it's absolutely ruined! Samoose stood over me, looking slightly guilty with his smoldering shotgun still aimed at my chest.

Rock salt hurts like a bitch!

"Gabriel?" He asked hesitantly.

"Who else did you shoot today?" I huffed. The black eye contacts I took great care in placing over my golden eyes slipped uncomfortably off to the side.

"You deserved it." Yeah, I might have. Wearing black eye contacts in a house full of crazy, paranoid hunters isn't really the greatest idea.

"I got bored." I fingered the holes in my favorite shirt. The last few days had been wasted arguing about how to close the gate.

The Devil's Gate wasn't really the problem. It's what the demons plan to do now that its open that worries me.

"Don't you have any idea over how to close the gate?" Sammy prodded, lifting me up with a half-hearted tug.

_I could close the gate. If I used my grace._

"No." I lied. "Besides, shouldn't we focus on saving the remainder of humanity? End-of-the-world 101, find fellow survivors."

"What makes you think there are any?" Sam sounded real down. Like, I-just-shot-three-puppies-in-a-row-and-there's-still-seven-waiting-in-line down.

"Samsquatch, four things will survive the end of days." I predicted ominously. "Cockroaches, the last ice-cub in a tray, Nickelback music, and humans." Out of all those things, I honestly like Nickelback music best. "And that annoying dog next door that comes into your yard to use the loo."

"That's five."

"No, no, its four. I ate the last ice-cube." Hmmph, end of the word, all hell is nigh, my trumpet's gathering dust in a pawn shop somewhere over the Pond and what is my role in the Apocalypse? Gabe, Devour-er of Ice-Cubes. "Maybe A.J. has some ideas." I suggested.

Aforementioned demon was out on a food run, being the only one with powers. Other then a sheet of suspiciously green beef jerky and a mountain of beer, I didn't have anything edible left in my house. My collection of canned soup, frozen meat and condensed milk had vanished mystically into the stomachs of four hunters.

"Gabr-"

"Its Hunter." I cut him off. I should have earlier. Don't want to get chummy with the help.

"Hunter, why'd you end up here anyway?" Sam the super-nerd, away! Have to know everything, don't you Samoose?

"What reason does anyone run away, Sammy?" I raised an eyebrow. You should know, Winchester. You ran away too, didn't you? "Family."

Or lack thereof.

* * *

><p>It's dark in there. Dark and cold and empty. Michael couldn't imagine the Library being <em>empty<em>. It was full of lives, stories unnumbered, souls inked and pressed and preserved. The heart of Heaven. His brothers didn't understand that anymore, it seems. Other then the broken Archangel, only one other being of Grace tread the dusty halls.

Sometimes, the bumped into eachother. But the Library is big, and years can pass with no voices, no sounds, just darkness, the empty beat of an empty heart.

The one other who still hears the heart-beat of the Library appeared at the end of Michael's hall. He avoided when he could, the sight of his strongest brother shattered was painful, but he had a plan this time, a plan that needed an Archangel's help.

"Metetron." Michael rasped a greeting. The other angel stayed a few feet away, as if weakness could be caught like a cold. "It has been a long time, brother."

"Yes, Michael. But longer still since our brothers walked these halls." The Voice of God murmured, then sighed. "Our brothers, our family, is scattered across earth, under Raphael's command."

"Why has Raphael ordered the little ones below?" Michael asked roughly.

"There is great trouble on Humanity's threshold." Metetron looked over his shoulder, like he expected punishment. Michael frowned, curious. "Demons have swarmed the earth, killing and possessing many. Man-kind has torn itself apart under its stress, made worse, if I may speak boldly, by the return of the angels. We must use vessels, now, and between the angels and the demons, very few humans remain. Raphael is cracking under the pressure of carrying heaven without his brothers, and I fear to suggest my plan to him. That is why I've come to you, dear brother. Together, we can save humanity."

Michael looked up with great interest now, his normally dull stormy eyes gleaming blue. "What is your plan, Metetron? How can we save Father's favored?"

Metetron smiled. "Its a ritual, a trial of sorts..."

* * *

><p>Crowley stopped at the Ritz. The once grand restaurant was falling apart, the roof caved, signs of fire scorched at the walls, glass broken and sheeted across the gilded floors. It was the skeleton of what it had been twenty years ago, ten years ago, hell, two weeks ago! He didn't need to fly to the old duck pond to know what it looked like. A bowl of sludge, dead fish floating on the top, dead birds floating to the bottom. He'd have preferred the Apocalypse that never was, to this slow decay of a familiar world.<p>

"Demon." Crowley glanced over his shoulder, pulling away from the wreck of his favorite building. A man stood behind him, a long tan overcoat trailing around his knees. His sharp blue eyes burned at him from below short black hair. There was an aura of light around him, one Crowley was familiar with.

"Angel?" Crowley asked politely, stepping back. If all else fails, run like hell.

"I am Castiel, Angel of the Lord, I have come to wipe the hell-spawn demons from earth and protect humanity." The angel said darkly, his sword in his hands.

"Well, you're a little late for that." Crowley spat sarcastically. This was the rubble of his town under his feet, and the demon was mossst ccccertainly not happy. He took another step back as the angel flared it's light grey wings. Crowley fluffed up his own, much cleaner, black wings aggressively. A deep howl broke out across the town, followed by three more wails from demonic hounds.

"You're a little outnumbered, mate. How 'bout you help me with the groceries and we'll continue this another time?" Crowley snarked. Castiel glared at him, shifting closer. The demon lifted his hand to his mouth, whistling sharply. The howls grew closer. "Last chance, angel."

Castiel shot him one more, sky-blue glare, and vanished with a flap of wings. Picking up his grocery bags, Crowley gave the nearest hound a pat on the head, and flew back to America.

* * *

><p><strong>Not much of anything going on here, but I did get two new characters in! Sorry its so sloppy, but I haven't touched this Fanfic for quite a while, and my computer is the bane of my existence.<strong>

**Anyhowzer, Peace Off, Internets!**


	7. A Gathering of Forces

**Okay, so I've basically got like three plots and subplots moving by now. I've always loved it when books and movies had subplots, little things that some people miss the first few times. Other people think it takes away from the actual story and yes, sometimes it does. But still, I love a good subplot.**

* * *

><p>So, oddly enough, the other Winchesters agreed with me. Well, the world is ending, so strange things are going to happen, right?<p>

.. Right?

"We have to get word out to the other hunters." Johnny-cakes said firmly.

"How would they not have noticed by now? We should try and close the gate, now, while we still have a chance." Samoose argued. "We don't even know if, if-"

"Oh, some are still alive." I chimed in, digging dirt out from my fingernails with a knife. What, you've never played five-finger fillet? "If humanity was dead, the Second War would exploding around our ears."

"What war?" Bobby huffed, looking up from on of my old books. I think Colt wrote that one, actually.

"The War between Heaven and Hell." I rolled my eyes. "Duh." The hunters were silent.

"Ga-Hunter." Sam started softly. "By Heaven, do you mean-"

"Fire-sword swinging, halo-holding, dress-wearing ass-hats. Yes." I said seriously. Sammy seems convinced I'm a fallen angel or something, but the other Winchesters and Bobert still seem hesitant. "Angels." I stressed the word. In-case it slipped some of the duller hunters minds. Cough, Dean, cough.

"Will they help us?" Sam asked. Ah, poor kid. Still has faith. Le sigh.

"Well, they'll help us kill demons." I replied, chipper then a- uh, er, chipmunk? "But those up-tight harp-playing dicks have been up on cloud-land for far too long. They've forgotten what humanity is _like_, what earth has to offer. Trust me kiddo, this is just a chest-board to the higher-ups, and pawns are used just for bait."

"Yeah, then why are you here?" Dean challenged.

"I hate the harp." I answered flippantly. Sam shot me a knowing look. Aw, Samsquatch, I just can't lie to you. Dean, however... "And cloud-land is for cuckoos. Look, I'm amazingly featherless." Maybe we should move the conversation back to the current Apocalypse. "Boys, even if we do shut that gate, the damage is done. Only the big G could reverse it, and He most certainly won't. What we need is to build up an army, and maybe we'll survive the War. Cause the angels? They're coming. The demons are already here. Chess-board's all set up, all we can do now is flip the board and go in guns-blazing. So kiss your asses good-bye, kiddos, and call every one you know in the world. We're going to War."

* * *

><p>Crowley was not having a nice day.<p>

For starters, he was sent out like a bloody dog to fetch groceries, went out of his way to raid one of the greatest food stores on earth, then got caught by an angel, not even the angel he wanted to see! And finally, adding insult to injury, all the demons were Summoned to the Gate, to watch in 'rapture' as, without siring an Antichrist, the Devil finally stepped back on earth.

The snake just hoped he forgot about last time, or he'd lose a _hell_ of a lot more then the Bentley.

So Crowley milled around the crowded cemetery, four heavy bags of food in his hands, praying to John Lennon Lucifer had forgotten all about the Apocalypse-that-never-was.

The other demons were chanting like a star-struck group of teenagers at a rock concert. Crowley swayed and mouthed along, switching from praying to John Lennon to simply praying to Somebody. If he didn't think the name, he couldn't feel guilty on the grounds of undemonic behavior.

A yellow-eyed demon stood in-front of the open gate, chanting and swaying, a ceremonial dagger in his hand. A little girl stood beside him, eyes light with excitement and body shaking in glee. Her blank white eyes like marbles fixed feverishly on the other demon.

"Lilith, the great seal, first of Lord Lucifer's Favored, offered willingly and forcefully-" Crowley wondered vaguely if he should try to stop this one too. But no, this time, Crowley was alone, other then a half-insane former angel, four hunters and the tire-iron he never returned. No, this time, he has to wait.

Crowley left before the tortured Grace of Lucifer finally surged over earth.

* * *

><p>BLAM!<p>

"Bloody Hellfire, everytime I step on your property I get shot, or stuffed in a devil's trap, or-"

"The demon's back!" I yelled, lowering my gun. It wasn't really necessary to shot him everytime he pops up, but if I didn't shoot every demon I saw I wouldn't be doing my job! I hauled Crowley to his feet. "Hey, did you get any lemon lollies?"

"No, I did not get you any bloody candy." He spat. Okay, okay, he's acting like I just shot- oh, yeah. "I've got bad news and worse news."

"Lovely. Let's call the Scooby-Dooby-Doo Crew." I huffed. No-one has any sense of humor anymore!

By the time we were all settled at my round table of the kitchen, I'd forgotten about the lemon lollies. There was a... buzz in my ear. A low whine. I've heard humans complain about it, when things are too quite, the keen sound fills in the quiet. The sound of angels when you can't quite hear them. Something was wrong.

"Bad news first, or worse news." Crowley thumbed the lip of his beer bottle.

"Bad news first." I suggested heavily. I could guess what was wrong.

"The angels are here. One cornered me in London, but the Hell-hounds drove him off." Crowley took a swig of beer. I winced. Well, I'd expected them to show up sooner or later. "Even worse, the demons freed Lucifer."

"Oh, shit." I hissed, rubbing my face. No wonder the angels were going nuts. "Well, the very worst has happened. Let's strap bombs to our chests and jump into hell." Great, just- great. No-one knows where I am, they can't sense my Grace since its hidden and I'm no longer attached to it. But whats the use? No matter who wins, humanity is doomed. I lost my purpose before, I can't lose it again.

"So you're giving up." Sam accused coldly. I glanced up. Everyone in the room was staring at me, shocked.

"Of course not." I frowned. Ugh, I hate frowning. "I've already given up. Look at us. Five hunters and a rebel demon against Heaven and Hell. Lucifer, Michael, Raphael, they'll wipe humanity from the face of the earth. Only two beings can stop them; God and Death, but Death doesn't interfere and God doesn't care. I can't kill Lucifer, I can't kill angels, what am I supposed to do?" I finished almost pleadingly. I want's meant to be a leader. I was a follower, a messenger. Michael led, Lucifer led, me and Raph, we were always followers, the little brothers.

"Gabriel-"

"I'm Hunter."

"No, you are Gabriel." Sam insisted fiercely. "You've been here longer then anyone else. You've spent centuries hunting things that turn others into little children, and now, now you're _giving up_?!" He paused in his grilling to take a breath. "The only way to lose is to give up. Right now, you're losing. Come on, you must know something, some way to defeat them, to save earth! If you don't, you're nothing but a coward." He finished chillingly.

"Earth's been written down as dead for as long as it's existed!" I spat back. I hate being called a coward. "It was created just to end! Humanity was created just to die! Lucifer was created just so he could turn on his brothers and so we could turn on him! Father creates just so he can sit back and watch it get destroyed, and I am sick and tired of it!" I stood up. "This is it. The end of all things. The end of earth, of _everything_."

"Its not the first time that's happened." Crowley managed rather weakly. Even without my Grace, demonic angels get intimidated easily. "It was stopped before. Adam stopped it. Well, this time, we'll stop it." A demon with faith. Heh.

"Stop it." I repeated. "The last Apocalypse was twenty years ago. Twenty years! So what if we do stop it this time? It won't matter twenty years from now. Even if we stop the next one, there'll be one after that. What about when you're all dead and gone? Turned to dust? Who'll stop it then?"

"The Hunter." Bobby looked me in the eye, a shrewd look on his face. "I don't trust you an inch, but boy, you can fight."

So that's that. Me. It falls to me.

"Fine." It's not like I have anything better to do with the rest of time. "Fine. Let's just shut the gate. Lets.. shove all the demons back to Hell, let's ice the devil and toss the angels back into Heaven. Any idea how?"

"Well." Crowley paused to drain his beer. "You could always, you know."

"Yeah. I know." Well, it was nice when it lasted. I had a good, long run. All parties must end. Phooey. "Dean, give me your necklace."

"What?" Dean clasped the amulet tight. Ugh, I'll have to give my Grace a good wash before I let it back in. "Why?"

"It's my Grace Vessel. My power's in there." I answered heavily. "I'm the Archangel Gabriel. The Strength of God, Messenger of Heaven. If you want even a shred of a chance against the heavy-hitters like Luci and Mikey, you'll need me. Give me the necklace."

"Dean." Sam said slowly. "Give him the necklace." Aw, I'll miss you kiddo.

Dean reluctantly pulled it off, dropping it on the table. I took a deep breath.

"Unless you want to be vaporized, I'd suggest you leave the room." I offered up a small smirk. "And A.J., it'd be safer if you jumped the Pond for an hour."

Crowley gave a nervous giggle. "Well, that's reassuring, seeing as we're fighting Hell. I think I'll go back to London, water my plants real quick." He vanished with a flutter of wings.

"Get everything together. There's some water guns in the basement and a pack of balloons. Fill everything with water, I'll bless it later." I closed my hand around the amulet, feeling the rapid beat of wings in the palm of my hand. The hunters left, casting curious, wary and even, from Samoose, concerned looks.

I looked at the little carving in my hand and sighed.

Well, it was a nice long run.

* * *

><p><strong>This is a little longer then the others. Its also marginally less goofy. Thanks for reading, Internets, and as always, Peace Off!<strong>


	8. Conversations at Duck Park

**The last chapter was originally called 'Lucifer Rising', but as Luci doesn't actually appear, I instead had a super-idea for a chapter starting with Lucifer. **

**So, here it is.**

* * *

><p>Lucifer had forgotten how blue the sky was.<p>

His demons, useful, but filthy in a way an angel never could be, had often reported to him, telling current world news, the advancement of human technology and knowledge, what pointless war they had started, but they never told him what he wanted to here most, what he could never ask.

What earth looked like.

It had been so, so long since he had last stood happily on Father's green earth with his eager little brothers beside him. He had forgotten the details.

The sky gleamed as bright and blue as Michael's wings. The sun blazed a glorious path across the sky, so brilliant and gold that, for one wild second, Lucifer had thought it was Gabriel bouncing across the sky towards him. Fluffy white clouds dotted the sky, and Lucifer longed to fling himself into the air, further and further from the ground that imprisoned him, and launch through the clouds like he had before the corruption of humanity. But he couldn't. His black wings were limp at his side, Lucifer would never fly with his brothers again.

He had almost expected to see them there, waiting for him. Raphael would offer up a weak smile, awkward and hesitant until Lucifer opened his arms for a hug. Michael would stay behind, unsure, wanting to embrace his brother but too stubborn to approach. But Gabriel, the youngest, the brightest, would bound up without thinking, tackling Lucifer to the ground and refusing to let go until his older brother promised never to do something so stupid again.

But they weren't there. Only scores of demons, black eyes raised expectantly, fear and devotion rooting them to the spot. None of them would speak out. None of them would offer any advice. None of them were his family. He had thought he sensed a fallen angel in the crowd just as he was freed, but it was gone now. Maybe the fallen had turned its back on Lucifer, like the rest of his family had.

The devil wondered how it had gotten to that point. Arguments and words turned to fighting and blows, sparking a war so long, so painful, so pointless, Lucifer sometimes forgot why he even bothered. Michael would always win. The last time they had fought, Lucifer was cast down, imprisoned. Michael had escaped without harm, without consequence. Without Hell.

Lucifer appraised the army of demons before him, stepping callously over the dead body of his first and most loyal.

Well, he would just have to bring Hell to him.

* * *

><p>Metatron slipped out of the Library, smiling. The Archangels had held sway for too long. They did not respect Humanity as they should. Humans were Creators, like Father. Built in his image, wielding his power. Father had not created them with the intent that they should protect them, but so that humans could continue His work. They were divine, gods in their own rights.<p>

It was high time the angels were reminded of that. Michael would do the trials, try to prevent the final battle between Heaven and Hell, protecting humanity as much as he could at the same time. He didn't know what closing the Gates would do, but he would understand in time, if he managed to close them both.

Metatron shook off a feeling of unease. Michael would close both Gates. Not to mention nothing could wipe out humanity forever. They were Father's Favored, and so much more powerful then anything any angel could aspire to be.

They would be fine.

* * *

><p>As soon as everyone was out, I laid the amulet on the ground, lifted my foot and drove my heel into the carving. A little white cloud rose up, hesitating, before surging towards me.<p>

I considered diving out of the way.

Its not like I didn't enjoy the power, or my old job as messenger. The greatest thing humanity had made was hand-gliders, because they made me feel like I still had my wings. But I didn't want to go home yet, if I could still consider Heaven home. The second Michael or Raphael find me, they'll haul me back. They don't understand. They think I can't make the right choice. Maybe I can't.

The little white cloud rushed to my face and I breathed in deep. Hmm, minty. Well, if this isn't the right choice, at least it will be a spectacular mistake. Maybe even a war-ending one.

I knew without opening my eyes that they were a blinding white, and stretched six golden wings that hadn't flown for thousands of years.

Show time.

* * *

><p>Crowley tossed a piece of bread into the dead pond. Something with five eyes snapped it off the oily surface. The demon sighed deeply. He missed the ducks, the Bentley, sunny afternoons in the back of a dusty book store. Why had the world changed so drastically? Was it because he stopped the bloody end of the world? Or because he hung out with the wrong crowd.<p>

"Demon." Crowley perked, turning around. He fully expected a pudgy blond-haired angel nervously thumbing an old bible.

"Oh, its you." He said sourly. "Hiya Thursday."

Castiel raised his hand, two fingers reaching for Crowley's forehead. The fallen angel slapped the attempted smiting aside.

"Oh, bugger off. Don't you have better things to do?" He hissed.

"My purpose is to free Mankind of demons." The angel stubbornly continued to try to poke Crowley's forehead. "I have no other 'things' to do."

"Yeah? Why not enjoy the last few hours of earth?" Crowley huffed. "Before the Archangels trample it to righteous dust. I think Hunter's going to drop a Grace bomb on Heaven."

"Hunter?" Castiel asked sharply. He pulled out his angel sword. "Tell me everything you know."

"Well, I've been slithering on earth since its beginning, so that'll take a while." Crowley crumbled the bread bag and stuffed it in his pocket. "Or do you want to know about the Hunter?"

Castiel nodded, watching him warily. Crowley patted the bench seat beside him. When the angel made no move he just shrugged.

"Well, a few thousand years ago, the Hunter appeared and started wiping out any demon stepping foot on earth. Then vampires, then werewolves. Shifters, Wraiths, dragons, anything that attacked Mankind ended up six feet under. He's hit me with his motorcycle a few times, too, mostly after a night at the pub. But turns out, this guy, he's a former angel!" Crowley laughed, "Explains smite-happy tendencies, huh? Just carved out his Grace one day so he could kick in monsters' faces the old-fashioned way."

Castiel frowned. "What was his name before?"

"Oh, no, I shouldn't tell you that." Crowley stood up, stretching his arms over his head. Castiel tensed at his movement. "But I suppose I could bring you by... We're just getting ready to launch an attack on Satan. Sure Hunter could use another feather-duster on our side."

"Who is 'we'?" Castiel ignored the last comment.

"Four hunters, myself, and the former angel. So what's it, you in?"

"...No." Castiel turned away, sheathing his sword. Crowley pouted.

"Oh, why not? We aren't chewing into Heaven, if anything, all we're doing is protecting humanity." The demon pressed. "If Hell wins, Mankind is gone. If Heaven wins, Mankind is gone. If we continue this war, Humanity is gone. Look, angel, you said your purpose is to free Mankind of demons? Wouldn't it be a better purpose just keeping them alive?" He offered Castiel his hand. "Look Thursday, I'm not going to kill you. I don't kill humans. Bless it, I don't even kill houseplants! So what do you actually want; Never-ending Heaven, or never-ending _Earth_?"

Castiel turned around, pinning Crowley with his icy stare. His hard blue eyes moved to the demon's offered hand. "Why would it matter to you?"

"I've been here since the beginning. I've seen Heaven's worst and Hell's best, but nothing compares to Humanity's anything. There's a reason they're Favored. They're crazy and stupid and brilliant and cruel and kind- they're never-ending, and each one is almost another species from the rest." He paused for breath. "Well, Heaven's boredom is just as bad as Hell's excitement. But earth's never boring." Crowley lowered his hand and shoved it in his pocket. "Oh, but you're from cloud-land. You don't know that yet, kid. Still, offers open. Give me a call."

He dropped a card in Castiel's hand and vanished with a flutter of wings. The card was black and sleek, reading in blue lilting letters _'Anthony J. Crowley, King of the Crossroads, Serpent of Eden.'_

With great care and hesitation, Castiel folded it and placed the black card in his coat pocket.

The seeds of Doubt were planted.

* * *

><p><strong>Hopped around a lot in this one, not to mention the great lack of Gabriel, but eh. More development on several plot fronts, though I still haven't touched the issue of Aziraphale's absence. To get all those odd little things in there, you may have to read Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaimen. It's my favorite book in the world.<strong>

**Peace Off, Internets.**


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